Revision Process

A few years ago, I operated under the delusion that people would be interested in my process of writing one of my novels. Consequently, on this blog, I published a bunch of posts (which you can read, in reverse order, here) documenting the first draft--and some of the editing--of a mostly-abandoned novel called Writ in Blood.

I learned a lot from my time in Coratha (the world in which the novel takes place). One is that my procedure for editing is not particularly effective. I also learned that, as much as I enjoyed writing a "magnum opus" style novel, it's more satisfying to finish many, smaller novels in a similar amount of time. (If I had to guess, I first got the idea for Writ in Blood sometime in 2009 or 2010; by 2016, I'm still poking at it, off and on, without any full sense of having "finished" it.) Additionally, despite earlier desires to try to learn to love editing, I still don't particularly appreciate it. Lastly, I learned how to outline my stories, thus allowing me to see--at the outset--if I'm in love with an idea enough to follow along with it.

Today, though, isn't about my writing, but my editing. There are things that I still do in order to revise my books.

1. As soon as I finish--usually the same day, if I can--I go to UPS and print it out. I want a manuscript, a tangible, weighty matter to hold in my hands and help validate all the quiet hours alone. I get it spiral bound, single space, and double-sided--mostly because I'm too cheap to double-space it, even though it's much easier to edit that way. I also send myself a PDF and a Kindle copy of the entire book. This is part backup (I've never needed a PDF of anything I wrote, but you never know), part need (as I'll explain below). I usually hold on to the manuscript for a few months before doing the next step.
2. With manuscript and Kindle version in hand, I begin to read my story for the first time. You might think that, since I wrote the book, I know what happens in it--that I've read it. That's untrue. I have only written the book. The experience of reading it, the unique concept of sitting down and being fully involved in the story as it looks on the page is a different experience than of seeing it on the screen. In fact, that's part of the reason I use the Kindle for some of this: My manuscript doesn't look any different from a book I paid real dollars for on that screen. A printed manuscript isn't particularly book-like, but the Kindle is identical to the real thing. It's the closest I get to feeling as though I'm truly published. Additionally, I can have the Kindle read my book aloud to me, letting me clean the house, do the dishes, or commute while still putting away as many pages as possible. The idea is to do a solid, fast, strong, continuous read of it. I make no notes during this time.
3. Once I've finished reading the book, I usually let it settle for a week or two, play some video games, read other books I've been neglecting, or otherwise recharging my brain.
4. When I attack the novel again, it's exclusively in the manuscript form. I have .05 Fine Tip red pens that I now use for every novel. I generally burn through one of them per manuscript, though sometimes I can get a book-and-a-half out of them. These are used because they are bright enough to see against the black-and-white text, but also fine enough that I can usually write legibly, even with the single space lines. 
5. Because I use yWriter6 for my organization (I use Word for my word processing), my books are automatically broken into chapters with page breaks in between. I preserve those, so that I have space with which to write additional information. I use my own version of copyeditor's marks, striking out whole lines with a strikethrough or, if it's paragraphs, boxing in the offending material and putting X's through it. One of the techniques that I've developed is to not defer to when I'm at the computer for the actual rewrite. I don't say, "Add detail" and an arrow--I write in the detail I need. If there's a continuity question, I look it up right away, rather than a note to "Double check her hair color". This comes from past experiences of hating my editing self when I was back at the keyboard, because whatever I was thinking of I wasn't coming back to me some weeks--or months later. 
6. If I don't have space to write a lot of detail, I circle a small 1 (or 2 or 3, as needed on the page) at the place of the insertion, then at the top or bottom of the page, put a circled 1. That is followed by the detailed information. If the addition is significantly larger, I put the numeral into a box and an arrow to indicate which direction I put the information. That box is at the chapter breaks, where there's more white space. This allows me to move pretty easily among the edits.
7. Once finished redlining it, I give myself another break to work on other projects or decompress. This usually lasts about three weeks, maybe as long as a month. The initial disgust at how much I have to rewrite starts to resurface, but that's usually a sign that I need to push harder to get it done. With the edits waiting for me, I begin to input the changes into the story, rewriting where needed and generally tidying up the entire piece. The better I outline, the easier the edits are--which is why I've begun outlining so much, a topic for another day.
8. When I finish the latest version, I begin research to query agents. I know this sounds strange--shouldn't I try to polish it and not worry about publication yet? Yes. Yes, I should. But I don't want to. I have too many stories in me to keep picking at the old ones, so I feel as though the third version--fourth, if you count the read through (rough, read, pen, computer)--is enough for me, personally. I feel comfortable sharing that story--indeed, I share my rough draft with my friends in the writer's group, so a more polished, more corrected version is easy for me to dispense with.

This is the type of pen I use. So very, very red.

That's it. I've now spent almost an hour writing about a process that I should be doing instead of writing about it. See how good I am at not editing? *Sigh. * Revisions make me sad.

This is a page of my current manuscript. You can see the cuts, as well as additions on the opposite page.